


Friend like me

by JotunVali



Series: Your neighborhood's friendly Q [1]
Category: Star Trek - Various Authors, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: 1996 PC game, F/F, F/M, Hugs, Love, Other, Q just needs, Star Trek: Borg, clash of, omnipotent fan artists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27662605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JotunVali/pseuds/JotunVali
Summary: Based on the 1996 PC game "Star Trek: Borg".Q just helped you save your father who allegedly had died 10 years ago from a Borg assault, transforming you and himself into members of your father’s crew.Right after the rescue and you and Q revealed your true identities to the crew, you presently are in your quarters aboard the ship USS Righteous.
Relationships: Q (Star Trek)/Reader
Series: Your neighborhood's friendly Q [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2155281
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

Q is still here, curious about what you are going to do now. You’re sitting on your bed. You look and smile at him.

“You’re… really sick, Q. A real sick, twisted psycho.” You tell him, torn between the fright of the fresh battle and Q’s shenanigans and the gratefulness you have for him.

“Oh, you flatter me.” He proudly smiles and pretends to blush.

“You... terrified me. Frightened me as fuck.” You admit.

“What can I say? I love my job.” Q shrugs his shoulders. “Though I must say I’m pleasantly surprised. You’re one of the few mortals I met to openly admit that.”

“Well... I know you know the feeling.” You explain.

Q’s amused smile fades as he’s arching a dubitative eyebrow.

“But… you _did_ help me.” You recall. “You helped me to save and see my father. Things I thought… obviously impossible” You chuckle. “Helped me to save his whole crew. And to gain some self-confidence about my abilities too. _That’s_ something. And for all that I…” You hesitate then stand up and go to hug him. “Thank you.” You hug him. His body feels stiff and rigid in your arms.

Q snaps his fingers, disappears and reappears a few feet behind you.

“Please, I have no merit, my dear. You’ve done most of the work.” His voice reeks of false modesty.

“Most, yes. Not _all_ of it. It’s not _I_ who’ve the power to time-travel or shapeshift.” You remind him. “These things kinda helped me.”

“Alright, listen well.” Q’s tone suddenly turns irritated despite his large grin. “If you think I did it for the love of my neighbor or to _help_ ...” He almost spits the last word in disgust. “Then you’re even more brainless than I initially thought. I did it because I _could_ do it! Vous rappelez-vous? Like I do everything I do. As an experiment. As a _game_ ! You mortals, you humans are just a _game_ for me. You’re just so funny to play with.” He gloats.

“So have I noticed.” You gloomily recall your temporary, traumatic transformation into a Borg and that moment you were forced to kill by your hands your own father you had just saved minutes earlier. You shudder. It had been your father’s fault actually but still. Fortunately, Q had erased all of that. From time itself, yes, but not from your memory. “Thank you anyway. It’s not like you _had_ to.” You insist. “I mean, you could have vaporized all of us when the Borg flew away. Erasing all of the Righteous crew, my father, me right after we rescued them all. You know, as a funny _game_ . Because you _could_ have done it.” You reuse Q’s own words in a sarcastic way to purposely irritate him. “You could have done all the opposite of helping a simple human like me saving their long dead father and his crew from the past. Especially after the way some of them teased you.” You smirk as you remember Counselor Biraka retorting to Q the latter just wants to be liked. Genuinely liked.

“As a matter of fact, I should have done so, yes.” Q agrees and dangerously smiles at you. You don’t like that at all. But to your surprise and relief he does nothing you were frightened he might do.

You don’t really know why but it makes you want to hug him once more.

“I think _I_ like you,...Q.” You giggle at your lame phonetic pun.

“As it appears you didn’t understand me the first time, like the thick, mulish human you are, let me rephrase it.” He grips on your wrist, squeezes it hard and throws your arm away. “I’ve only done it out of boredom! Out of a playful mood!” He asserts. “You and your sappy, cute little daddy just were another game, another distraction to me!” He growled, fluttering his eyelashes in a mocking way.

“Wh-why do you refuse my thanks? Why…” You ask confusely. “Why do you refuse people’s affection?” You honestly ask, remembering with amusement Q’s apparent disgust when Counselor Biraka had kissed him. “You did help me and a lot of people, what do you expect? Loathe and rejection?”

“I don’t expect _anything_ from humans!” Q emphasizes. “It’s a losing game either way.”

That phrase somehow hurts you. Like a twinge in your heart. 

“Why? Why are you-?” You faintly shake your head in disbelief. “Why are you so scared that people might like you?” You ask him.

“Watch carefully your words, Mx Earthling.” He warns in a threatening tone that makes your blood freeze a second. “And open your weak, malfunctioning ears. I am _never_ scared. Never! And as for people’s _love_ …” He crinkles his nose and sounds like he’s about to throw up. “Let me remind your goldfish brain that I have the ability to make people do anything _I_ want them to do. I can enchant them so they adore me and worship me as much as _I_ want. Comprenez-vous?”

“Even if you did, their love words would sound false. And you wouldn’t like it. Would you?” You note.

“Either way, that is all irrelevant! Just like human existence! Also your hugs are repulsive, mon ami! They’re lowly, basic and way too human to my immortal taste. Just like your _love_ nonsense. Love is nothing. It’s just an organic, volatile, chemical, mortal feeling.”

“And fear and hate are _not_?” You cross your arms.

Q glowers at you as if he’s about to kill you.

“Is it why you behave like such a total asshole with everyone, why you rather harass and terrify people than just be cordial with them? Is it the only way you’ve figured out to hang out with emotional mortals without looking like a needy love beggar?”

Q dangerously walks to you and stares right into your eyes with a bone-chilling glare.

“I think you’ve noticed I don’t quite like psychologists. So if you ever imply I enjoy the company of lowly, inferior creatures like you or that I’m a scaredy cat _ever_ again, I’ll obliterate you!” He claims.

“Well go on!” You challenge him. “It's better than being transformed into a Borg!” You expell into his face. 

His eyes look like they’re about to pop off, but instead of killing you on the spot, he just ragefully turns his back on you and walks away.

“What’s the matter? You can torture but you can’t kill?” You call him out.

“I can do _anything_ I want!” He roars out.

“You can, means you don’t _want_ to, is that it?... You don’t like to kill!” You realize. “You don’t like to kill and you help people while asking nothing in return! Huh. What an evil, maleficent, big bad villain indeed!” You sass him.

“And pray tell, what could I ask from limited, conditioned mortal beings when I already have everything all of the universe’s inhabitants can only _dream_ of?” Q dryly retorts.

“I don’t know. Courage? Self-confidence? Love?”

“All this worthless garbage is for stupid, impotent mortals like you! It’s useless when you’re an omnipotent immortal.” Q gives you a crooked smile.

“So you _admit_ you have none of these?” You challenge him again, arching a defying eyebrow.

Q looks like he’s about to explode with berserking rage. You really cornered him here. You tricked him in addition to infuriating him. And strangely, despite the risk for your life, you enjoy it. Now you were even with Q.

“I dare you to open your idiotic, full of nonsense mouth once more.” He warns you. “I freaking dare you.”

“I only assume that if harassing and mentally torturing people is all you’ve figured out to make you feel less lonely, or more confident about yourself and like you’re better than everyone else, you must _really_ feel scared and insecure all the time. Maybe worse than _I_ felt when you turn me into a Borg.” You still vividly remember the sheer fright you felt when Q purposely changed you into a Borg with all the pain and the terror that it implied. To make you understand the Borg are forced to do what they do, despite their personal will they quickly lose after a time.

“Stop at once your human preposterous piffle!” Q orders you with rage.

“You know… You’re like those gifted children who have an outstandingly encyclopedic, scientific knowledge, way above the average, who could be the finest teachers and psychologists ever and yet end up being the most self-centered and superiority-complexed psychopaths because they’re also the best in denying their own feelings and the worst in anger management. Only because they’re more “gifted” than the others, because they know everything there is to know, except their _own_ functioning!” You scold Q without even realizing it. “As if _they_ were any different or an exception! They’re not! There are thousands, _billions_ of beings out there like this! Like you.”

“There are _no_ beings like me. _I_ am Q! _I_ am immortal. _I_ am omnipotent!” Q claims.

“There are _always_ beings like you.” You retort. “The omnipotence or immortality are secondary. Accessories. If these weren’t, all of the Qs would be like you. But I bet they aren’t. If so the world would be a shittier mess than it is now…” You ponder a little deeper. “Is it why you love roaming across the universe? To play with and torment people who are exactly like you?”

Q’s posture turns stiffer, as if about to pounce on you and eat you raw. You almost don’t care and go on.

“Isn’t it ironic?” You smirk. “You force people to face their own feelings, and emotions, and fears, and contradictions, and stupidness, and stubbornness… but even as an omniscient, omnipotent being you seem incapable of doing this to yourself.” You scold him.

“Enough! Stop chastising me like a mere child! I am _no_ child! I am so old, I have such an advanced age your puny, narrow human mind can’t even _fathom_ it!”

“There are a lot of children who are incredibly mature, and a lot of very old people who still behave like pesky infants! As a supposedly omniscient being, you didn’t know that?” You corner him again.

Despite your scornful speech, Q looks like he’s calming down.

“You know, you start to sound like Picard.” He strangely implies.

“I don’t know who that is but that must be someone you like very much.” You nod.

“And why would a puny, meaningless creature like you believe such a fable?” He taunts you.

“Because I’ve been ranting and scolding at an irascible super-powered manchild for a few moments and he still hadn’t obliterated me as he had promised.”

“I. Don’t like. Anyone! Certainly not a… an expendable, mortal, imperfect human!” Q asserts.

“Whatever. I think despite all the creepy, traumatic bullshit you’ve put me through, and surely a lot of other people, you must hold some kind of… pity in you. Some kind of… twisted compassion for us.”

“Don’t make me laugh, my ribs might implode.” Q scorns.

“Must be one or other. Or Both. But certainly not neither.” You assert. 

Q doesn’t reply to you.

“You think us humans with our cycles of hate and vengeance and terror reigns are despicable and petty but when _you_ do all of this, it’s different and acceptable?”

“I am-!”

“Well have I got news for you, immortal or not, Q or not, you function and think like a human!” You cut him off. “Like the most bitter and psychotic human! Like the most…” You search for your words. “...miserable and love-deprived human!” 

“I’ll obliterate you.” Q grits his teeth. “I’ll obliterate _all_ of this ship with your precious dad aboard it!” He explodes. “And _all_ of your efforts, _all_ of your ordeals would have been a completely, desperately vain waste! Just like human life! Do your mortal, temporary ears hear that?”

“I’ll just say one thing: despite all the horrid bullshit you’ve put me and probably a billion of other people through, I still like you.” You cry out and hug him again. Tighter than the first time. You notice only now you are crying. You bury half your face into Q’s uniform. You feel no heartbeat, no blood pumping yet his body feels warm on your cheek. “You… you can destroy me and the ship now.” You croak. “We’re Starfleet. We _know_ the risks. And the Righteous crew was supposed to die today, wasn’t it?” You bitterly remind more yourself than Q. “It was nice… to see my father one last time. Meet his crew. Live my first… and last deep space adventure. I never could’ve been given all of this if… if it hadn’t been for you.” You mumble. “Thank you.” You breathe.

Q’s body feels less tense than it was on your first hug. You hear him sigh, or rather grunt.


	2. Chapter 2

You feel an embarrassed hand patting your head.

“You’re welcome… I suppose.” Q grumbles with something you interpret as a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

You blush, chuckle and can’t help hugging him tighter. You feel him jolting between your arms, like a guilty boy caught red hands by his mother. As if this gesture was the most -the _only-_ surprising thing in the world for him. It confirms what you initially thought about him. And it saddens you.

“That’s a hug.” You giggle. “It’s not meant to hurt.”

“Ugh. Tell me something I don’t know.” Q groans. “Oh wait. You can’t.” He sasses you. But doesn’t reject you this time.

“What if I can?” You look up.

“Defying the incarnated omnipotence again?” Q looks picked. “If _I_ say you can’t do something, it _does_ factually mean you _can’t_.” He taunts you.

“Oh but I _do_ know one thing you don’t.” You insist.

“And what sort of farcical, made up historieta would it be?”

“What Counselor Biraka told you. What _I_ told you.” You imply.

Q roughly pushes you away.

“Oh come on!” You laugh. “There’s no shame in that! Everyone likes to be… liked!” You shrug.

“Need I remind your limited brain I am _not_ ‘everyone’?” Q protests.

“Ugh, right.” You roll your eyes. “Same old song. ‘ _I_ am not everyone’, ‘ _I_ am special’, ‘ _I_ am unique’, blah blah blah… If we listened to every individual who ever claimed that at least once, any averagely smart person would deduce that no one is everyone, and so everyone is no one in the end.”

“I beg your insignificant pardon?” Q squints with anger. “Sorry, my eternal ears must have misheard what you’ve just babbled.” He scratches his ear. “Did you just call me ‘ _no one’_?” He flames up.

“How is it so wrong to be ‘no one’?” You retort.

Q freezes. You carry on.

“If you’re no one, that means you can be _anyone_ . Doesn’t it? Isn’t it what you are? What Qs are? What we _all_ are? Anyone and no one at the same time? When you’re no one, the possibilities of your existence are… infinite. Aren’t they?”

Q glares at you with an aghast look. Like he didn’t expect you to talk like that.

“You’re a Q.” He breathes out in a shocked voice. “You’re one of these who were raised as mortals and are unaware of their powers.”

“Not from what I remember.” You chuckle in disbelief. “Well let’s see...” You snap your fingers. Nothing happens. “Oh. Nothing. What a surprise.”

Q gulps down as if you’re going to kill him.

“Well it’s... a kind of waste.” He reckons. “And it’s really, _really_ not something I normally say to a mortal.”

“I believe you. Complimenting a mortal, a _Human_ , mustn’t be something you do every day.” You assume.

“And quick-witted with that.” Q whispers, obviously hoping you can’t hear him.

“Am I?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Alright.” Q grunts. “Maybe, _maybe_ , I do appreciate it when the universe’s spotlights are on me. Satisfied?”

“Is that why you bust in, helping people or just annoying them? So their attention switches to you? Well I must admit… it’s quite effective.”

“Isn’t it?” Q proudly agrees. “No one can ever forget my perfect, grandiloquent figure! No one, no matter if they love or hate me!”

“Still you reject the people who like you.” You notice. “And you seem to enjoy nagging those who hate you.” You snort. “What are you, a space masochist or something?”

Q pushes you hard. You yelp and land on your bed. When you open your eyes, they find a predatory Q bending over you. You gulp. 

“How about I prove the exact opposite to you?” He dangerously suggests.

“I… I...” You stutter, burning blush on your cheeks. “I don’t think you’re… _that_ kind of person.” You imply while feeling a bit scared. That position reminds you of the one you had when Q had changed you into a Borg.

“Good guess.” Q agrees and walks away.

You huff out the breath you’ve been nervously holding in. You sit up and stare at him. Despite everything he’d put you through, he really looked endearing to you. You smile and stand up. Your heart starts to beat faster when you look at him. If you had any doubts on his good -or at least, not that villainous- nature before, they quickly vanished. He just was… twisted. But you were sure he just wanted to do good things. Again in a twisted fashion.

“You know… “ You begin. “If it’s of any reassurance to you, wishing for people’s affection like any dull, limited mortal… it doesn’t make you less special. In fact, maybe it _is_ what makes you special.”

Q stares at you with startled eyes.

“You know, being a Q and all…” You add. “From what you told me about the continuum stuff, it didn’t sound to me it was a… common feature among the Qs.”

He opened his mouth but uttered no word. He looked shocked and confused. Like no one had ever told him that before.

“Who are you?” He strangely asks you.

“I am [your name/first name]? The meaningless Human you’ve been nagging for hours?”

“You can’t be human. Humans don’t…” Q faintly shakes his head, for the first time at loss of words. “They don’t…”

“Don’t what?” You ask. “Tell you nice things? Well, we ain’t often kind to our neighbor, true, but surely we’re not the only… _species_ you’ve met?”

Q swiftly glances at you, then looks away.

“Unless…” You figure it out. “Oh. Of course. Sorry, I guess.”

Q sighs.

“Well, I’ve never bothered to... ‘make myself likeable’.” He lowly admits. “Never _intended_ to either way.” 

“But… you _did_ .” You protest. “In an… unconventional, extremely weird way but… you did. With me at least. I can’t speak for everyone else, but you _did_ with me.”

Q snorts and faintly smiles.

“It _is_ the first time someone talks to you like that, isn’t it?” You assume with no trace of joy in your voice.

“Oh, ‘first’ and ‘last’ are foreign concepts to a Q. But it certainly is for a long, very long time.” Q replies.

“Well I… I just hope you’ll get that kind of reaction more often. If you don’t behave like a too big asshole, that is.” You slyly smile.

“Don’t ask for the impossible, mon ami.” Q playfully retorts.

“Impossible? For an _omnipotent_ being?” You grin.

“Oh.” Q sighs in what sounds like a beginning of defeat. “You really are too smart for a lowly Human. But I assume you also are stubborn enough to decline if I offer you to become a Q yourself?” He offers, ready to snap his fingers.

You smile.

“You really are an omniscient guy after all.” You admit.

“Of course I am. Good thing you refuse cause I actually can’t do that.” Q lowers his hand.

“Hu-? What?” Somehow, you feel tricked. And somehow you like it too.

“Well I _can_ but I’d instantly be punished by the continuum. They alone are entitled to decide who has the right to be a Q or not. And I don’t quite relish the prospect of having my knuckles rapped by them.”

“That’s wise.” You nod.

“There is one thing you actually knew that I didn’t nonetheless.” Q admits.

“Did I? And what’s that? That you’re a scaredy cat? Scared his continuum masters may catch him and smack his bottom?” You provoke him again.

In response, his hand clutches around your uniform fabric and he sharply pulls you to him.

“That a clueless, ignorant, inconsequential Human might enjoy my company.” Q answers, staring intensely into your eyes.

You slightly lower them. Just slightly. You timidly lick your lips.

“I…” You look back at Q’s eyes. “You’re… welcome I… I suppose.” Back to his lips. You softly purse yours. 

“Well, I might be a little mean here.” Q assesses. “Your actions did have a faded shadow of consequences on this ship, didn’t th-?”

You cut him off by smashing your lips over his.


	3. Chapter 3

To your surprise he doesn’t shove you back, but you hear a snap of fingers. You stop to care when Q hugs you tight and passionately kisses you back. You didn’t expect so much enthusiasm from him but since he’s a fantastic kisser you tell yourself you’re not going to complain and you embrace him in return. You realize he’s the first person to kiss you on the lips and you feel tremendously blessed by it. Your first kiss being from an omnipotent, immortal entity was quite something after all.

When he ends the kiss, you notice something in your body has changed. You’re taller than you remember, you feel physically tougher and your scalp feels unusually cold. As if… you didn’t have hair anymore. Then you remember the finger snap.

“What the hell have you done to me again, you-!” You roar then gasp with dread, clasping your hand on your mouth. This mature baritone voice wasn’t yours.

Q viciously grins and cackles like a child proud of his mischief.

“I’m profoundly sorry, mon capitaine.” Q giggles, not sounding sorry at all. “But I had to make it pleasant for the _both_ of us. You can’t be the only spoiled one here, can you?”

“ _Captain_? Which captain?” You demand, with the same unknown, unfamiliar but strangely smooth and manly voice.

“I recall I’ve already told you the name, sweetheart.” Q gloats.

“Whe-? Oh yes.” You remember. “Your _Picard_.” You roll your eyes.

“Yes.” Q steps closer to you. “ _My_ Picard.” He suavely whispers.

You gulp down.

“Or so I wish.” He corrects before snapping his fingers and bringing you back your initial appearance.

You palp your chest, your face, your skull, everything is back to normal. You sigh.

“I guess… it was the least I deserved after assaulting you like that.” You admit. “ _I_ should say sorry. Sorry.” You honestly apologize. Sexually assaulting the one who gave you way more than the world itself could never have granted you wasn’t the best way to show your gratitude. Then you realize Q just could have shoved you back instead of transforming you into the guy he likes so the both of you enjoy your sudden kiss. You blush with emotion and look away. Were you really the only one person in space-time to like Q? You wonder.

“You should, cadet.” Q agrees. “Although… giving Q the opportunity to kiss his beloved captain… is not a present I’m offered everyday.” He implicitly thanks you.

“Oh. Uhm…” Your cheeks feel hotter. “You’re… welcome… I guess.” You stutter with embarrassment.

“Well, my glorious, inscrutable job being done here, you’ll excuse me if we don’t finish that chapter of humanity with a ‘they lived happily ever after’. One that includes perfect me at least.” Q amusedly declares, about to snap his fingers and leave for an unknown period of time. 

Maybe you will never see him again.

“Wait!” You call, a hint of fear in your voice.

Q lowers his hand, an interrogative look on his face.

“Will I… ever see you again?” You’re surprised at your own chagrined voice.

Q softly chuckles. He stares at you, with an amused -compassionate?- smile.

“Why, my dear mortal friend…” His voice is soft despite his clear strive to remain sounding haughty. “Let’s just say that amongst the countless, enraged voices of dead-brained creatures who only feel hate and vindication for me,... I’ll recognize yours.” He winks at you.

You smile as your heart skips a beat, your eyes look away and your cheeks start to feel hot again with embarrassment and gratefulness. But also, you can’t help thinking what Q just said sounds really sad. On the other hand, you easily guess why 99% of the universe would hate someone like Q.

“Try not to forget that then.” You brightly smile.

“Trust me, I never forget a face. Omniscience, remember?” Q taps his temple.

“Not _that_ .” You correct. “I don’t care if you forget my face. I just want you to remember… there _are_ people, at least one… who truly and honestly likes you. Despite everything…” You assert. 

Q looks puzzled once more at such words that obviously sounded unusual to his omnipotent ears.

“You don’t… have to behave like you do to help people… not always.” You add.

Q sharply picks up your chin. You faintly gasp.

“I am not quite the fluffy, lovey-dovey kind I’m afraid.” Q murmurs with the voice of a lethal predator.

“I’m sure... they are people who _love_ that kind.” You realize too late that phrase could be interpreted as shameless flirting. “I-I mean… other people, than me…”

Q lets you go, looks up and mischievously smirks, like he’s thinking about these potential people. People like this famous Captain Picard? You wonder.

“That’s not something I usually say, in fact it’s something I never say at all,... but you may be right.” Q smiles and raises his hand, about to snap away again. “Until we meet again, cadet.” He promises before vanishing off.

You sigh. You wipe your eyes. Somehow, you’re going to miss that twisted omnipotent trickster.

A few minutes later, your father enters. 

“Hey [your first name].” His smile instantly fades when he notices your gleaming eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” You assert. “Yes dad, I’m fine.”

It still sounded bizarre to call that man ‘dad’ while it’s been ten years you hadn’t seen him and while you worked as brothers in arms not so long ago. 

Ralph Furlong. Officially dead for ten years, now alive and well right before your eyes. Now he was barely older than you. While you had aged normally from eight to eighteen, your father, thanks to you and Q’s tricks, _he_ had remained as old as he was when you were eight. Now, you saw him as a working colleague, a war comrade more than a father. But him, he still saw you as his child. Maybe that was what mattered most. Age dysregulations or not, ten years of absence or not, he still was your father, and you still was immensely happy he was here and alive. As happy as you were when you laid your eyes on him on your first minute on the Righteous. When you fought the Borg at his side. When you gripped tight on his wrist in a warmate gesture. When you revealed your true identity to him and saw him as joyful as you. He was here.

You run to your father and hug him.

“Wow! You’re brawnier than I remember, aren’t you?” He jokes.

In fact, you were as tall as him now.

You remember that moment when he discovered your true identity. You already were tremendously happy to meet him after ten years, you were excited and blissful when you worked as a brother in arms with him and you were on the verge of tears and grinning to your ears when Q revealed your true identity to him.

“Is that you?” He had asked.

“Yes! Yes, it’s me, dad!” You had craved to respond.

Not just your father, most of the people who had lost a member of their family in the supposedly destroyed Righteous starship, they were going to retrieve them! To see them again! Alive and well and even unchanged!

You look forward to telling your mother. Not only have you lived your incredible deep-space adventure you wanted so much despite your official dismissal, but you also have found your long-dead father and are going to bring him home!

All this thanks to a twisted, bored and playful omnipotent tramp. You chuckle. Did that Q even realize the wonders he’d just made?


End file.
